


Beauty in the Leaves

by Kneeshee



Series: Jamila's Adventures [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Naruto, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Hood: Lost Days, Under the Red Hood
Genre: F/M, Gen, No Uchiha Massacre, Tags Are Hard, Tiger Mom Talia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2020-01-31 05:56:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18585175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kneeshee/pseuds/Kneeshee
Summary: This is basically a test run. Depending on how well it is received, I will continue to write it. If it doesn't reach certain expectations, I'll scrap the whole idea.





	1. |overview|

_This is currently a work in progress._

_A short overview:_

_A character of my own imagination finds herself in another dimension. The Konoha Military Police Force finds herself lying unconscious near the Hokage Tower She awakens and begins to attack them. She manages to overpower a lot of them, but she doesn't have chakra and she becomes overwhelmed. She gets trapped in a genjutsu._

_It takes only a week for her to be discharged but she's under close watch. However, she's an assassin in her own right and manages to lose her guards daily. It isn't long before she stumbles across a small blonde haired child being discarded and looked down upon by the people of the village. Snarling in anger, she defends him and takes her place as his unofficial guardian._

_She's cloaked in mystery and she holds secrets that everyone wants to unravel. T & I can get nothing from her and she ends escaping anyway even with her various injuries. Because of the suspicion surrounding her, the tension between the Uchiha clan and the Village itself is nearly nonexistent. _

_But the question remains: Who is this girl? Why is she so interested in Naruto? What can they do to get her own their side?_


	2. |one|

A man went flying.

Jamila turned and stabbed his partner through the eye. She was tired. She was injured. But she would complete her mission.

Ducking and rolling, Jamila pulled out her guns aiming for her opponents. One-Two-Three shots later, and they all fell dead.

Jamila gave a soft upturn of her lips before she was once again diving into the masses. She spun through the air letting her body be her weapon. Landing soundlessly, she chased after the operative that was heading for her mission target. She had the absent thought of wondering the machine’s potential, but she pushed it away to focus on her mission.

Her aunt had given her clear orders in keeping the pile of junk from falling into enemies’ hands. Though this time, the enemy in question was her own _mother._

The woman hurriedly types something into the machine. Her fingers flew over the keyboard at a speedsters’ pace, but she couldn’t do much else as Jamila pressed for an attack. Pale green eyes began to glow as Jamila relinquished some of her control to her inner demon. She was going to make this little birdy sing.

The knives in her hands swung through the air with deadly accuracy. The woman’s blade had only barely managed to come up in time to defend herself, but she left herself open to other attacks. Jamila’s knee crashed into the woman’s chest with enough force that she could f _eel_ her rib cage breaking. The pained scream that echoed into the air was music to Jamila’s ears as she brought her sword hand down harshly onto the woman’s head.

Her lips pursed in disappointment as her opponent crumbled to the ground. Sighing a little, she brought out her communicator.

_Death Demon to Team Obsidian. Target is safe. Sending current coordinates now._

Quickly sending off her location, she bends to restrain to the crumpled form in front of her. Years of training keep her from reacting to the stings of pain as her wounds protest her movements. With a roll of her shoulder, she sets to work as her own accelerated healing begins patching her up. Disgust fills her features as she gazes upon the woman. She refused to believe that anyone would w _illingly_ work for someone as despicable as Nyssa. Disgraceful.

Her reinforcements enter the room and take point at all the exit points. Jamila moves to stand in front of the machine as one of the technicians begin to get their own equipment out. The second half of the mission began now. Protecting the aging woman in front of them and figuring out why The Forgotten One would want it.

Choked laughter catches everyone’s attention. The woman she took down earlier awakened.

“You may have won the battle, but you didn’t win the war. Lady Ny—”

Her words were cut off as Jamila flicked one of her knives into her throat. She continues trying to laugh as she gurgles on her own blood. They all make to ignore her as she begins to fall into the arms of death.

Jamila tenses minutely as her instincts tells her that something is wrong. Something is very wrong. She turns around slowly as she backs towards the technician. The lady needed to be protected from harm. And yet, Jamila had the thought she couldn’t have been any safer as a sword is embed into her ribcage.

Alarmed yelling comes from the other guards and Jamila’s swipes wildly with her sword. The aging lady… no aging man… shapeshifter’s head rolls in front of her. She pulls the sword out of her body and Lazarus roars in her mind as he begins ruthlessly stitching together her body.

But the yelling doesn’t stop.

Jamila’s squints her eyes through the bright lights that took over the room.

She feels light on her feet.

She doesn’t even have time to scream.

She’s being pulled apart and stitched back together.

Ithurtithurtithurtithurtithurt

She didn’t even notice when she finally blacked out.

\--

Naruto was once again being led towards the Hokage Tower. This time he had been captured by a guy that wore the wide shirts like Sasuke teme. But his prank had been a _wesome_. And the two guys at the gates _laughed_.

Sasuke-teme’s look-a-like paused at the steps of the tower. He pushed Naruto a little bit behind him as the stairs warped in front of them. A bright light pierced their eyes. When it died down, a girl was lying down unconscious.

Naruto blinked because she wasn’t just right there. He also thought she was a little weird for falling asleep on the ground. His guide walked forward cautiously. He flicked his hand and a kunai appeared. The older boy pushed the girl lightly and she rolled over. Naruto’s eyes widen when he saw the blood leaking onto the ground.

The older boy cursed lightly before gathering the girl up in his arms. “Naruto, I need you to go get Hokage-sama. Can you tell him to meet me at the hospital? My name’s Shisui.”

Naruto nodded his head quickly. His jiji would know what to do. He turned and ran up the stairs quickly. He didn’t even slow down when the guards glared at him. He just kept going until he made it all the way to jiji’s door. Ducking under the secretary, Naruto pushed the Hokage’s door open with force.

The old man had been sitting behind his desk talking to the policeman. The one that scolded Naruto for his pranks and snuck him candy and chips.

“What is it, Naruto?”

The young jinchuuriki waved his arms around expressively as he said, “There’s a girl outside and she’s bleeding! And-And Shisui-teme said to tell you to meet him at the hospital.” Hiruzen wouldn’t have given the boy’s words a second thought until he realized the child was near tears.

Hiruzen made to move and head for the hospital when the sound of fighting could be heard. Naruto froze up and Fugaku quickly reached out to grab the child before he could run out the room. They each walked to window to see the mysterious girl that Naruto was talking about fighting Shisui.

She was good. Really good. Hiruzen couldn’t sense any chakra inside of her, but she dodged and flipped and fought the others as if she done so her whole life. He watched impassively as she flung out her own weapons. She unclasped the guns strapped to her thighs.

Shisui immediately poured more chakra into his shunshin in response.

Admirably, she begins to anticipate where he would appear after he’d shunshin away. She fought as if she was dancing and she refused to let him close. His jutsus were only met with fierce anger and a presence making its way outside of her. It was something like chakra and yet so very different. But one thing that Hiruzen did know was that it felt _demonic_.

Shisui’s eyes began to glow red as he activated his sharingan. And yet the girl only snarled and fought harder as her own eyes bled green. The presence escaping from her were attracting nearly all his shinobi as their battle prolonged.

Her guns quickly ran out of bullets and the girl in turned them into other kinds of weapons. Boomerangs were a more adequate term as she flung them around and grabbed them whenever they circled back towards her.

But her previous injuries were quickly overtaking her, and Shisui immediately pressed with his attacks. She still fought with her all, but it only took a chance of a glance at his gleaming red eyes and she dropped to the ground.

Hiruzen knows nothing about this girl, but he did know she was dangerous. She was—

“She’s awesome,” a childish voice exclaimed, and reality crashed upon Hiruzen. He remembered the child that was in his arms before Shisui appeared with the mysterious female.

She was young. She couldn’t have been any older than sixteen, and from the way she fought even without chakra… it must have been curtailed from a young age. Even younger than the training Hatake Kakashi and Fugaku’s eldest son have went through.

Hiruzen shared a look with Fugaku to handle their previous conversation about the distrust between his clan and village another time. Preferably when Hiruzen was no longer in office. The clan leader nodded his head in acceptance.

Hiruzen placed Naruto on the ground only for the boy to run up to Shisui and stare at her. He used his shirt sleeve to try to wipe some of the blood from her face. Hiruzen inwardly sighed and again wished that the attack on the village never happened. Minato would be able to deal with this better than him. He was sure of it.

He reached for some of the ryō that he keeps for Naruto. It was no secret to him that the young boy could not spend his money on reasonable items. And thirteen bowls of ramen are not a priority compared to clothing.

“Naruto, here. How about you go get some food for our guest,” the boy turned to look at him with wide tear-filled eyes before nodding his head determinedly.  The boy rushed out of the room this time with no one to stop him and Hiruzen’s gaze was traced back to the young girl.

A flick of his fingers and Genma stepped forward from her place in his office. He began to bandage most of her superficial wounds as he gave her a check over. Broken ribs. Sprained wrist and ankle. He pulled one of her eyelids back as Shisui’s genjutsu kept her down for the count. Possible concussion. He inwardly grimaced at the sight of her singed hair. If she was anything like the girls he knew, then he could only imagine the hell was going to rain down on them when she eventually awoke and saw _that_. Once he finished, he moved back to his post.

Hiruzen cast a glance at the young girl before moving back towards his seat. She had a skill unrivaled in taijustu that he had not seen since Gai. Closing his eyes, he reached desperately for the peace within.

“What are we to do with her,” he heard Fugaku question. Opening his eyes slowly, he looked at the young girl lying delicately in Shisui’s arms.

“Take her to the medics and make sure someone is there to keep watch of her. Preferably a Sharingan user in case she proves to be hostile,” he eyed the girl once more. “Inform the clan leaders of this new development. We will find out what else to do with her when she awakens.”

He turned his gaze towards the paperwork on his desk before another thought crossed his mind, “And get Inoichi to do scan on her mind. I want to make sure this isn’t some scam by the other villages. Consult with Shikaku to see where to station your men. We will be tightening up security around the village and your clan’s abilities will be highly appreciated.”

Fugaku didn’t outwardly startle at the words. But he will admit only to his wife in the darkest hours of the night that he did preen at the acknowledgment of the clan. Maybe he could listen and find a peaceful way to settle everything within the village. Its not like he particularly wanted a civil war.

Bowing before the Hokage, Fugaku went to relay his orders as Shisui made his way towards the hospital. They spotted the jinchuuriki slowly but steadily making his way towards them with a steaming bowl of what could only be ramen in his hands.

His eyes widened when he noticed them walking out with the girl and he tried to desperately speed up. Fugaku inwardly sighed. He had no intentions of dealing with the boy, but he could inwardly hear his wife berating him and honestly, that was just too much. He motioned for Shisui to stop before he shunshin over to the hospital.

When the young boy finally made it over, he only had eyes for the girl. “Will she be okay,” he inquired. Fugaku was uncomfortable with the sudden realization that the boy was just a few months shy of his youngest son. He shouldn’t be walking around barefoot with slightly too big and slightly too small clothes on his body.

“She will. She just needs some sleep,” Shisui soothed the young boy as if he were his own kin. Bright blue and teary eyes locked onto his and Fugaku wondered how anyone could see him as a demon with eyes like those. Shisui cradled the girl with one arm while reaching for the bowl of ramen with another. “I bet she’ll be really hungry when she awakens. I’ll make sure to tell her that you brought her something to eat.”

The boy stared him down for a few seconds longer before nodding and handing the bowl to Fugaku. The boy ( _His name is Naruto, a voice that sounded like a terrifying combination of his wife and her friend Kushina snapped at him_ ) turned back to the girl before placing a kiss on her forehead. “Get well soon,” he whispered before turning and rushing back into the Hokage Tower.

The two of them watched him run off before turning around and completing their separate objectives. Both of knew that the mystery surrounding the girl would put everyone on even more edge. They could hope that their clan could survive the masses.

\--

Jason and Talia weren’t pissed per say. Words couldn’t even grasp the amount of fury and rage erupting inside of them.

Jamila was missing and no one had answers to where. Their cousin. Their niece. Their family.

The two of them listened impassively as Jamila’s squadron repeated the outcome of their mission. It had been a success. They had managed to keep Nyssa from acquiring dangerous and untested machinery which she would no doubt use against the world.  Jamila had a personal hand in making sure that it was protected and ending the life of the technician that Nyssa had in charge of the operation.

Yet still, no one could give them answers on why Jamila was not standing before them.

They spoke of how she chased the technology inclined warrior down. Two of them had quickly dispatched their own enemies chasing after the rightful heir to aid and protect her.  By the time they reached her, she had already secured the target. Her enemy had been knocked unconscious and tied up.

But something had to have happened when they weren’t in the room because the woman had begun to laugh and spout nonsense about a war. Jamila put her out of her misery.

Their heightened senses had recognized a whine in the air, and they all turned prepared to defend the machine.

Except—

Except it was the machine that was attacking them. It had started to glow an unearthly white. The traitorous technician they had hired attacked Jamila from behind. And almost like lightning itself had struck before it reached out and lapsed onto Jamila. The guards rushed to her aid, but they were seconds late as the machine had already swallowed her whole. The only thing that was left was dead form of their enemies.

Jason was nearly shaking with the emotions fighting for control inside of him while Talia was barking out orders to the people inside of the base. The machine needed to be moved back to the compound and it will need to be studied.

They _will_ get Jamila back.

No matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically a test run. Depending on how well it is received, I will continue to write it. If it doesn't reach certain expectations, I'll scrap the whole idea.


	3. |two|

A small groan echoed throughout the room.

Jamila was aching. She felt as if she had just taken a dip into the Lazarus Pits. Her mind felt heavy and her limbs felt like lead. Another small groan passed through her lips as she began to fully wake up.

She could hear Lazarus purring in the recess of her mind as her accelerated healing began to clear away the aches from her body. She tried to remember how she ended up hurting so badly and why her aunt didn’t---

Her thoughts abruptly stopped as she remembered the machine teleporting her somewhere. She remembered the strange boy with glowing red eyes that made Lazarus howl with rage inside of her.

It was strange.

Mentally assessing her body, she came to a few conclusions. Someone tried to read her mind, but with Lazarus and her own natural resistance to mental attacks… they only succeeded in giving her a migraine.

Her body felt as if it had been pulled apart and put back together. She figured it had to have come from traveling through the machinery. Her ribs felt bruised, but they were tender, so they were probably previously broken. She could feel something wrapped around her left ankle and right wrist. No, she could two things. Maybe a cast? That was definitely metal, so obviously some handcuffs. She could feel stitches in her stomach from where that shapeshifter stabbed her. That was always an uncomfortable experience especially since the stitches were keeping her accelerated healing from fixing her up.

Slowly opening her eyes, she immediately took note of the world being tinted green. She turned affection inwards towards her own Jiminy Cricket. It was always refreshing to know that Lazarus would come to her aid when she had no one else.

She trailed her gaze across the room not even giving an indication to the two people hiding terribly in the shadows. She had absolutely no idea where she was. Stretching her senses out, she can feel the two people hiding in the corners. There was one hiding in the ceiling. Two people were standing guard outside the door and another two were standing outside the window.

Seven unknown hostiles. She’ll have to play her cards right.

Lazarus settled down slightly in her mind and she smiled lightly as the green slowly faded from her view. Running a hand through her hair, she paused as it stops near her neck. Freezing slightly, Jamila processed this information.

She always had long hair. From the time that she was a child to her current fifteen years of age, the hair that grew out of her head extended more than halfway down her back. It was one of her favorite features.

It marked her as an experienced warrior. It made men and women fall before her prowess. Her hair was her pride and joy. Especially in the inner workings of Nanda Pardat, it marked her a recognized member of the royal family. Even when her mother was banished, her rich and chocolate locks let all her family’s subordinates know that she was to be respected and not cast aside from her mother’s failures.

Though she would only mention to her dearest cousin that the reason she took care of her hair so passionately was because it made her look more her aunt. The woman she cherished most in the world and whom she secretly wished were her biological mother to begin with.

Taking a deep breath, she refused to cry. She was Jamila Al Ghul. She was born into the legacy of world renown assassins. She wasn’t going to let something as shallow as hair get her down. It can always be grown back.

Her eyes narrowed as she remembered the strange boy that could breath fire. It wasn’t nothing she hasn’t seen before. She remembered the first time Superman breathe ice and he could shoot laser out of his eyes. Not to mention those _other_ caped freaks. She couldn’t remember much from their fight, but he obviously was more skilled than her.

She can take the blow to her pride to admit that.

And besides it wasn’t the strangest fight she ever had but she could admit that she had been a disadvantage with her injuries and not having proper intelligence on her enemies.

She took another look around the room when her eyes immediately zeroed in on her clothes sitting on the counter.

Jamila looked down at the cuffs on her wrist and wondered if breaking her bone would be “too dramatic” just to get out of her bonds. Her lips twitched as she thought about what her aunt and cousin would say.

_“Just because you have accelerated healing over did not mean you should deliberately injure yourself!”_

Gritting her teeth, Jamila brought her handcuffed hand down hard on the bed railing before crushing her wrist with her hand. She shuddered lightly before she pushed the cuff off her mangled hand. She could feel the three shadows watching her shift into defensive stances at her actions.

Amateurs.

She set her hand back into position as she turned towards her ankle. Experience made it to where she could ignore the feeling of her bone mending itself. This time she looked at the bed railing instead of breaking her ankle. She gripped the railing with both hands before crushing it dramatically.

She sat up slowly while moving her limbs around. She needed to get the feeling back in them before she stood up. She walked confidently over to her clothes before she smirked mischievously. If there was one thing Jamila knew for sure, it was everything had the potential to be a weapon and her body was her most called upon.

Stretching her body lightly, she dramatically dropped the hospital gown she was placed in. She was left in nothing but the satin underwear she had on before this whole misadventure.

A small laugh left her lips as she could _feel_ two pairs of eyes tracing her body.

 She tensed minutely as she could tell that her underwear had been washed. Her eyes narrowed before she was pulling them off too. She dug through her utility belt and pulled out a capsule ring. And she must thank her darling cousin Jason for stealing the blueprints to the damnable item. Though of course it was still in the protype stages. But it was enough for one spare outfit.

Grabbing a knife from her utility belt, she cut her stitches out with no care to the lasting damage. She cleaned off the blood with the hospital gown and let the skin knit back together freely.

She rummaged through the clothing before pulling on another set of underwear. A little bit of tension fell off her as she felt the familiar feeling of leather roll over her skin as she got dressed in her backup catsuit. She zipped it up just enough that her cleavage showed. Her body was her favorite weapon and she used it to her advantage in all shapes and forms. Her missions against Jinx and the purpled Batgirl were her most sa _tisfying._

Jamila didn’t even spare a glance at the clothes that she had on before this shitty trip. She turned back towards the hospital bed before carefully emptying the pockets. Her poisons hadn’t been compromised, but her throwing knives weren’t placed exactly as she left them.

Green bled into her vision as she traced her gaze over them and noticed that no one set off any of the gases. A small smile graced her face as she applied her favorite brand of poisonous lipstick. She’s killed off a lot of clients this way. She snapped on her bracelets. She didn’t click them together to let her swords go. She was in enemy territory and the less they knew the better. She pulled on her shoes before stretching lightly.

Her guns were nowhere to be seen, but her hostlers were still there. A small smile danced across her lips and her eyes darted over the room again. She had a knockout gas pellet in her belt, and she could use them to knock out the two in her room and the one in the ceiling. A tranquilizer dart could work for either the people at the door or the window. She wasn’t too keen on taking a hospital hostage.

Thinking about the boy with the red eyes, she had no doubt that he was one of her guards. Well, she could play this game with them also. She climbed back onto the bed and settled into a full lotus meditative posture. Behind her closed eyelids, the world was tinted green and she could _see._

She heard footsteps coming down the hall. Soft taps. Gentle scratching. Either a doctor or a nurse.

Her brows furrowed as she turned her attention to the shadows in the corners. She needs to get rid of them before she could do anything.

She could s _ee_ the door opening and someone walking in. Their aura reminded her somewhat of her grandfather except gentler. More caring. They were still dangerous, but it was different. They stood silently and watched her. Her lips quirked into a smile.

“I know my beauty proceeds me, but that does not mean to just stand there and stare,” she mocks openly. A wave of confusion and aggression and shock filled the world as it was directed towards her. Her smiles turn just a little sinister as she slowly opens her eyes. The fire and rage and wild nature of pit reflect in her eyes as something uncontrollable. As something dangerous. She sees the aborted motions of stepping backwards.

But she pays it no mind. There was a man standing before her with a look of curiosity on his face. Behind him was dark-haired man with two scars running alongside his face and a blonde man with a very long ponytail.

She didn’t know what universe she was in, but she was quickly becoming sick with all these pretty men with beautiful hair. Especially now that her own hair was lacking.

The old man standing before her in the white and red robes is the one to speak first, “It’s good to see you awake, Miss…”

She blinks a little at the Japanese before rewiring her mind to speak the language. Jamila sits up straighter and lets green of the pits fade out of her irises. She tilts her head up as her title decrees and lets her lips twist in challenge. “I am Jamira Al Ghul. Heiress of the Al Ghul clan. Do not worry about the meaning. It’s obvious there is a cultural clash here. But do speak to me with the respect befitting of my class or do not speak to me at all.”

She can’t even remember if there was a direct translation for her last name to Japanese, but she knew that her first name had another variation. She can deal with that. She looks down her nose at that looking all the more like the princess that she was. Even if she did plan on throwing away the Heiress title.

The old man’s brow furrows for just a blink of the eye before he smooths it back out, “Cultural clash?”

Jamila nods sagely, “I figured it was better than saying, ‘Hi, my name is Jamila Al Ghul. I’m from a completely different universe where I am the heiress to an international terrorist organization where I have been born and raised as to be a ninja assassin with a ten out of ten-success rate. Oh, and let’s not forget that I have a demonic personality that lives in recess of my brain and we’re friends.’”

There’s silence in the room before a quiet “what the fuck” pierces the air.

Yes. What the fuck indeed.


End file.
